Time

our life begins with promises
of every possibility of joy
untouched by blemishes
nor tarnished by
the cruel stain
of wasted
precious
time
unused
relentless
pressing, ever
passing disappearing
hour by hour destroying
possibilities that, dying,
leave an empty chain of moments

Advertisements

About therevr

A human being, striving to become more so.

Posted on February 2, 1979, in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: